Behind the Glasses || a.i.

Chapter 11

 “Hey,” he says, running his hand through his hair. He is wearing his glasses that look somewhat similar to my own. I can see Sierra nearly melting next to me.

 “Hi,” I greet him. I motion to Misty. “This is that girl Sierra I was telling you about.”

 “Hey, Sierra, I’m Ashton,” he says, shaking her hand.

 “It’s very, very nice to meet you, Ashton. I’ve heard a lot about you,” she says, causing Ashton’s face to turn pink. She puts her hand beside her mouth, so I can’t see her lips, whispering to him too loudly, “She loves your accent, won’t shut up about it, actually.” Ash’s eyes go wide, and he can’t hide his grin of embarrassment.

 I glare at her. “Sierra was just heading out, weren’t you?” I explain through gritted teeth.

 Ashton chuckles. “Well, I mean-” Sierra begins.

 “Yup, alright, bye.” I smile widely at her as a way of saying I am about to slap her with a lobster.

 I grab Ashton’s arm, rushing him to the elevator. The doors close, leaving a frowning Sierra in the lobby. I turn to him, looking down at my feet, both of us feeling awkward after what she told him. They were lies. “I am so sorry about her. I really wish I could control what comes out of that girl’s mouth. She was just trying to embarrass me. It wasn’t-”

 “Trinity, I get it,” he consoles, shaking his head. I meet his gaze and catch sight of his dimples. “It’s exactly what Michael did earlier.”

 I think about it, understanding, and just now making the connection. I nod, more to calm myself down than to respond to him. The elevator juts to a stop, causing me to jump a bit. Ash notices, I think, but he doesn’t question it. I show him to my apartment, unlocking the door and stepping aside to let him in. “Nice place,” he comments. I smile, mouthing thanks, but the sound doesn’t make it past my lips. I tell him he can sit down, and he plops down onto the couch, slapping the case for the movie ‘Mean Girls’ down onto the coffee table in front of him. I sit down on the other end of the couch, sitting with my feet criss-crossed to face him. “You sick of me?” he asks, hopefully jokingly.

 I giggle, shaking my head. “No.”

 He smiles at me, but it fades, and his mind is pulled away from the moment we are in. I look down and an awkward silence follows, as he is submerged into his thoughts. He stares into space, but I am afraid to pull him back to reality. I wonder about what he could be pondering so deeply. Why did his smile turn upside-down so fast? Why do I feel he is sad about something. “My girlfriend is mad at me,” he blurts. There it is, I think to myself. I look over, but he is looking at his lap. “I was praying you weren’t mad at me, too, when I called.”

 “Why would I be mad?” I ask him, feeling terrible for causing this.

 “I don’t know. I thought I scared you away,” he says. I can see when he is dragged back into reality because he blinks rapidly and looks away from me. It breaks my heart to see him upset like this.

 “Ash, you could never scare me away. When we met, you told me to get in your car, so you could take me home, but I’m still here,” I tell him honestly, making him to smile the slightest bit. It disappears too quickly, and I get the feeling the movie is going to have to wait.

 “The boys are mad, too,” he states.

 “Why would they be mad?” I question him, unsure what they had to be angry about.

 “’Cause I brought a girl home without telling them, then I yelled at Michael about his comment, and Calum was stuck with my furious girlfriend for a half an hour,” he explains, trying to pace himself. “I’m a terrible friend,” he mumbles, running his hands through his hair, his elbows on his knees, as he is hunched over with his arms supporting his head. I admire him, but I don’t let him put himself down.